As The World Falls Down
by Araceli L
Summary: When the Altean King, Marth, sweeps Sheik away into a dazing, false, and beautiful fantasy, can the warrioress be subdued - and seduced? MarthxSheik one-shot. Do you dare read such an unexpected pair? Sort of AU, I suppose. Squint, there's the Smashers.


**By ClumsyHeart17**

_**As The World Falls Down**_

…

What was happening?

…Was this…_normal_?

What was going on…?

* * *

Her eyelids sunk shut, covering her gleaming ruby eyes, her startling, seductive scarlet eyes, seeping into his skin and sweeping away his senses…

Of course, she would never know that. She could not see past his taunting trickery, his snide smirks, his unjust riddles and puzzles. That was the way he wanted it. She should never know the real hurricane tearing his mind, crashing his reality, burning his hopes, chasing him underground. That was why he was so unfair to her – even though he pretended it was all for the boy. Oh, no – it was all for her. Every single mockery was for her – this _place _was even for her. Yet she could not see it. She could not comprehend why he did what he did, and his actions were all driven by one simple thing, one blunt reason. She couldn't see it, but he knew she would – soon.

When the idea had first penetrated his mind, he'd admit, he wasn't certain that she'd fathom what it meant. But as he observed her continue onward, actually rather valiantly, and face each horrendous challenge he threw at her, she'd answered with confidence and cleverness. She'd figured the most boggling of his mind-games, making his own intellect seem shrunken. She'd effortlessly slid though his psychical problems, leaping swaying rivers, bounding across monster-strewn plains, defeating every harrowing creature he'd sent after her. She'd proved herself far beyond his expectations, and then some. It was evident she was beyond his very impression – and that was a good thing. It meant his distant speculation had indeed been correct.

As the forbidden fruit, glinting wickedly, tumbled out of her fallen, lifeless palm, he watched in anticipation. An odd mixture of excitement and apprehension bloomed within his stomach, and he fingered a blue lock of hair with his left hand.

In his right hand, his sword hand, he was swirling four clear, crystal balls. Three rotated in his upright palm, the fourth balancing on the top. Perfectly serene, he plucked the still one off the top, twisting it about for a second in his gauntleted hand. He observed it, then, reaching some sort of decision, he called forth something illicit in his mind. It was not, perhaps, the best way to get his message across, but otherwise, she'd never understand.

A seldom half-smile crossed his face, transforming it to strikingly handsome. Under his long navy locks of hair, his puckered his pink lips and blew a thin stream of air, directed toward the sphere in his hand. Once it caught, the crystal was easily raised into the wind, and it drifted off lazily into the distance, as though it was merely a bubble.

He grinned.

Deftly he selected another ball from his palm, adroitly spinning the remaining two in his fingers. Choosing another element, he spun that one from his left hand, and it bobbed into the sunset.

He chuckled. It was truly a brilliant, intoxicating sound, but who would know?

If he did this right...she would.

* * *

The golden haired-warrioress felt her hasty breaths abandoning her. She could not retrieve them; they were slipping away, just as her soul, her sanity, and her reality were…

She was faltering, the earth stumbling and staggering shakily underneath her. Then there was nothing; she was falling, colors were blurring, blending all around her. Reds as blinding as fire, greens as vivid as sky when it storms, and especially blues: blues of the sea, navy of the midnight sky, the azures of his eyes….Colors, in every shade and hue and form; they surrounded her, threatened to overtake her. She'd never seen so many colors, such a startling array, and she was plummeting through them, dazed yet utterly aware. There were colors she'd never imagine existed, colors she could have never dreamed up. Only a genius could have thought this up.

And she knew who that genius was.

As his hated – yet lovely – face came to mind, she promptly forgot who he was. Why was he gazing at her so tenderly, so lovingly? So cruelly, so coldly? So promisingly, so addictively? Did she know him? What was it…in his eyes?

But the sudden image burst abruptly, trickling into the streams of color painted around her. She could not fathom or feel anything, and she couldn't even recall her name.

Then – she didn't have the sensation of landing, or even coming into contact with the ground again, or, when she realized what was going on, she didn't even remember falling. She couldn't recall ever being anywhere but where she was now – she couldn't remember how she'd gotten there, or where _there _was, or who she was. She simply…_was._

* * *

The king watched the last orb float dreamily away into the wind. How he loved his mystical land, his magical kingdom; here he was safe, and no where was he powerless. It was all as it should be.

Until –

Until she'd come. _Her, _with her alluring, sinfully beautiful smolder, her quick wit, her daunting prowess, her driven determination to save the very brother he'd stolen from her, under her own orders. For her.

Perhaps her demand wasn't the only reason he'd taken the boy – come to think of it, he'd probably have done something sooner or later to gather her attention. It was inevitable; it had tortured him to no end, his feelings for her, and how he had powerless against them. He could not change them, no matter how hard he tried or his stubborn denial; he could not encourage her, because they were from two different worlds.

Two _vastly _different worlds.

So, when she'd grown enraged at her baby brother, he'd swooped in and snatched his opportunity. With the baby, he'd created this world, because it was a wood between the worlds, so to speak. It was a safe haven between two very opposing forces; it was no man's land. It was perfect.

Finally, they could be united…she could be his…

He shifted his jacket in the pond water. His reflection beamed at him, and the Altean King breathed deep, the fragrance of the ocean lingering in the air.

Of course, there was no sea here.

But that didn't matter. Altea was a place where everything seemed possible…but nothing was as it seemed.

* * *

Sheik looked around her, taking in everything.

People, in every possible color and outfit, where whirling around her, elegantly, gracefully, shockingly beautiful. They were wearing odd, animalistic masks, in every possible inspiration: a woman with long, auburn hair and a purple and white dress wore a gold mask with a sharp beak, and three tapering fingers spreading off the edge of it; the man holding her, sweetly, was clothed in a green tunic, and his gold mask seemed to form a triangle; another couple nearby consisted of a blond woman who was disguised by a jungle cat-esque mask, her green eyes setting the precise wildness with which she danced; the man she was dancing with had a handsome face structure, underneath shocks of bright cobalt, messy hair, and he seemed to be the missing element in his partner. He appeared to tame her, his mouth curling into a smile under his red mask, which highly resembled a bandit's cover because it consisted of a strip of cloth, tied behind his head, his cerulean eyes piercing through beautifully.

Breathing in the atmosphere of the romantic dancing, Sheik looked down upon herself. Before she saw her dress, she hadn't thought about it, but once she saw it, she wondered why she'd looked down. She knew what she was wearing. How had she forgotten? The glance served as merely a reminder.

Her outfit was showcased by a stunning white dress, the color of innocence. A tight bodice encased her torso, ending far too dangerously below her collarbone. Only twisted ribbons served as sleeves, swooping off her shoulder. Her skirt was falling bundles of silvery fabric, and her tiny, pointed shoes were inlaid with pearls. As she turned her head right and left, searching for – something – her loose golden hair flooded over her shoulder, sashaying to a stop below her waist. Her snow-white skin seemed to shimmer next to the sunshine of her hair, and the tiny orangey freckles on her skin appeared darker.

This music, this place was torturing her, yet she was reveling in it – and Marth could see that, as he swept about the room.

There was such a sad love, deep within her fiery eyes. Was her defiance merely a defense? With her, there was nothing he could be certain of – and that was one of the things he loved about her.

It was a kind of pale jewel, and it flickered in her eyes, opening and closing as she gazed about the room. What was she remembering? What was paining her? Why was she also smiling?

Her eyes, her eyes were beyond magnificence, beyond compare. He'd place the sky within her eyes – he'd trust his love into those eyes, if only she'd accept him.

Sheik's crimson, glowing eyes locked onto his.

The world was falling down, his barriers were falling down, _he _was falling…

In a second, he was gone.

The warrioress was startled, disappointed, and saddened beyond what was normal. Without thinking she started for the spot where he had been, but he wasn't there. Why was she so distressed? Who was he?

Marth, the Altean King, examined her from his position across the room. She was so gorgeous, so tenderly beautiful; was her heart as foolish as his? Was it beating as fast? In search of new dreams, so thoughtless, so fallen. Was there a love that could last between their hearts? He'd place the moon within her heart…if only she'd accept him.

Abruptly she spun around. She saw him, and his sky eyes were cloaked by an irritating mask. She rushed forward, but her skirt slowed her. She took a precious moment to unhook it from her accursed shoe, and when she snapped her hair back up, her bangs veiling her searching eyes, she found her search was in vain.

He was vanished.

She cursed, unladylike, but she couldn't explain it. She _needed _him. She needed to see the man with the ultramarine, caring eyes…eyes unlike any she'd seen before. Had anyone ever gazed upon her with such tenderness in their expression?

Well…perhaps once…  
She began to step through the couples with more force – her hands were more aggressive as she wandered through them, searching for him intently. Little did she know, as she hurried past a fan-shrouded face, that the hidden head was his. When she passed, he peeked out from behind it; a sly, yet utterly taken grin softened his face.

Sheik scanned her blood-red eyes across the room, one nimble hand playing with her hair. She was distantly surprised to feel a wreath of pearls resting there, but she ignored this as she resumed searching. She did not glimpse Marth as he spun another woman in his arms.

His games had been amusing, at first, but she was exhausted of his toying with her; but now, he was unable to wait any longer. The blue-haired King was behind her now, and she seemed to sense this, and she turned around.

There he was, a deep violet mask his only disguise, and it was as if the world was falling down. It was as if there was nobody else in the entire world; there was no world. There was only this bubble, this dreamland, this fantasy; and that was alright. All she needed was him.

There was nobody between them as he ultimately gave up his game, and his façade. Did she realize what he could do for her? He'd spin her mornings of gold, he'd paint her beautiful evenings, he'd be there for her, as the world fell down…

Indeed, the world was falling down as he finally revealed the man behind the mask; and she was captured in his intense, breathtaking gaze; she submerged completely, willingly into the capacious depths of his ocean eyes…

Sheik was aware that her mouth had fallen open, but she didn't care. All she cared about what reaching him, about knowing him. They had been strangers until now…

Finally, after an excruciatingly long while, he was finally there; in a half-smile, he'd taken her into his arms. Unknowingly, she'd tensed up, and now she struggled to figure out why. Actually, she was struggling with everything, from breathing to thinking clearly. Every thought in her brain was gone, and it was as if the only thing that existed was him. That was the way it'd always been, that was the only way to be, and that was the way it would always be.

He smiled down upon her. Finally, he was content; they were choosing the path between the stars…he was laying his love between the stars. Finally, she'd accepted him, and he could see that from the overcome and dreamy look on her face. All was as it should be. And she grinned back up at him, the only emotion she could express, the only feeling she could understand.

Sheik didn't understand how it had happened; it made no sense at all, it made no sense to fall, but somehow she'd fallen in love with him. Quite swiftly, too, but he must be an amazing man, considering he'd stolen her with a glance of his eyes. She somehow knew she wasn't making a mistake. This was meant to be.

Marth gazed into her lovely eyes, feeling her in his arms. It was as if she had been made to fit into his embrace; could he ever bear to let her go? He'd always be there for her.

As they whorled about the dance floor, he knew he was satisfied, elated, actually: she was his. It was evident as she fell dazedly into his gaze, shining through her smile. Her countenance was glowing.

Finally, King Marth could bear it no longer. Unthinkingly, unexpectedly, he twirled her closer to him and closer still, till there was no space between them. How amazing her body felt against his. Lust threatened to overwhelm him, but he steadied himself, concentrating on her eyes. It wasn't long until he was lost inside of them, and his mind cleared, and he remembered why he loved her. There were far more reasons he had fallen in love with her other than her body, and he knew the difference. Love was what he focused on as he stared at her, because he knew perfectly well that he could easily take advantage of her. But he would never do such a thing. He refused to hurt her.

Love was what was on his mind as he descended toward her. Her eyes widened, but he had no control over his actions as he leaned down toward her. Suddenly his lips met hers, and he expected her to pull back from his stolen kiss. But she didn't. And when she didn't, he deepened the kiss; she complied eagerly. As he kissed her, his eyelids slowly fell shut, and he slid his arms around her waist. She put hers around his neck, kissing him back delightedly; in this moment, there was nothing but them. The world was utterly gone, forgotten. The world had fallen down.

Languidly, Sheik broke away from the King, a bright smile lighting up her face. He grinned at her, and it was a smile he knew he'd never share with anyone else. He'd never love another, because there was no one as worthy or beautiful as she, no one as astoundingly amazing. Sheik was perfect.

Spreading his arm, he invited her to dance again, except this time, the dance had a note of romance that warmed her body. Butterflies like she'd never felt before blossomed within her stomach, but she smiled and danced.

Abruptly the world returned, and they were twisting among other couples. The other partygoers were excited and chattering, but something caught Sheik's attention. She glanced about her, uneasiness upsetting her for the first time. It was something about a short dancer in a red outfit, who was disguised in a brown mask that covered his nose, and a red cap upon his head. She wasn't sure, but she looked back up at Marth.

He seemed unsettled by her sudden suspicion, but then he began to despair: his dancers began to crowd around them, laughing and jeering and calling. He could not call them off, without Sheik suspecting his doing; she glanced at him frantically, then back at his goblins. But as he thought this, the beautiful warrioress suddenly broke out of his arms, leaving him feeling empty, stunned, and heartbroken.

Marth could do nothing as she rushed away from him, hastening her pace as his minions followed her. His arms were outstretched, and his dreams were crushed.

Now she would never know…maybe now she knew that there was something called love, but she'd never know it was him. This was precisely why he hadn't wanted to create a fantasy with magic to unveil his feelings for her. Because she was just cunning enough to see through it, and in the end, she hadn't known it was him anyway. True, she had been his – his mouth ran dry as he watched her glance backwards at him desperately – but the love he'd seen in those indescribable eyes was not for him. It was born from ignorance (not her own fault) and being carried away in a dream. It was not for him.

Marth saw her grab a chair, and he knew what was coming. He just wanted her to know the truth, no matter how she would see him in the other world.

The other world.

Why did it have to be this way? Why couldn't they belong to the same world, not from two separate universes? Why couldn't they exist peacefully in this wood between the worlds?

Sheik looked back just one last time, and his beautiful face seared into her mind. She let a tear betray her as she hurled the stool at the mirror in the wall.

_I love you, Sheik._

And everything shattered, everything broke, every mirage evaporated, every shadow exposed, every lie uncovered. Marth watched, his expression impassive, as his fantasy crumbled around him; he watched, stoic, as every of his betraying followers were whisked away into the falling sky; he watched, heartbroken, as his love disappeared.

Why did they have to be from two different worlds? Why couldn't they live lovingly together in this refuge of a world, a middle ground between their two worlds? After all, he'd created it – he'd created everything – for her.

Because she was his hurricane.

A/N: **Heh…intense stuff? I don't know. I do know I'm exhausted. Yet to not be sued, I must express a few things: I don't own The Smash Brothers. At all. (I've never done a disclaimer before.) Nor do I own the lyrics I giggled into here. (Yes, giggled.) Those are…David Bowie's. Oh yes, this was inspired by Labyrinth, the movie with David Bowie, hence the lyrics. So don't sue me, director. I also don't own the phrase "The wood between the worlds." However, I was referencing something when I stuck that in there. If you would be so kind as to leave a review, and tell me what that phrase is from, I'll…give you a virtual cookie.**

**I hope you enjoyed! Yes, this was heavily influenced by Labyrinth. Great movie. Also, I was listening to "Hurricane" by Thirty Seconds to Mars, which I'm growing addicted to, and I have TennisWriter456 to thank for that. (: **

**Anyway, please, **_**please**_** drop me a line. I'd be OVERJOYED. You have no idea. Want to make my Christmas? Please review. **

**Thanks for reading! I do appreciate, a lot. :D**

**~ClumsyHeart17**

**Note: was just edited. If anyone else reads this, I've gotten reviews saying I should continue this. What do you think?**


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